


To Be With You

by kissontheneck



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Cookleta, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-02
Updated: 2010-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 16:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissontheneck/pseuds/kissontheneck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archie is happy to have a private hotel room for a change, and also to be alone. However, he's maybe just a little too lonely without his boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be With You

It was a hotel night. David always looked forward to hotel nights. Especially when he got his own room instead of just a chamber in a never ending suite of his band mates. And on this night, he had to bite back his elation when his manager crossed the lobby from the front desk and dropped separate keys into his and his guitar player's hands, reserving one for himself. He honestly spent too much time with his these guys, too much time in a tight confined space, and no matter how much you love one another, everyone needs their own space; their own private time and space.

Even if it just leaves you alone. Sometimes _especially_ if it just leaves you alone.

David had come to learn that those things his parents and teachers and elders had been telling him all that time about sex -- all that longing and passion and emotion and need -- well, heck, some of it... a good portion of it had so far been absolutely true. No wonder they encouraged purity. No wonder abstinence was preached. Because once David had finally tasted that sweet connection between he and his boyfriend, it was difficult to think straight anymore. It was amazing how much one small aspect of life could really change him as much as he had been warned it would. Just utterly amazing.

Being on tour had gotten exponentially more difficult. When he'd first left Cook, he of course didn't want to go without him, but he had left a lot of people at home over the years and he was certain he could handle it. However their relationship was still fresh, it'd only been a few months. And David did not realize how needful he was about to become being away from Cook. He knew it'd be a test. He just didn't know it'd be _this_ sort of test.

He felt anxious, even after he'd entered his private room and closed the door, finally getting Demi to stop eating everything at his mini-bar and go to bed. He kicked off his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt and unbuckled his belt, letting the ends of it fall loosely at his sides. Falling against the bed, he sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He was so tired. They had traveled, interviewed and performed all in the same day, and it left him like a walking zombie. Sleep was needed so badly, but he was still wound up at the same time. Concerts always did that to him; elevated his heart rate and adrenaline, leaving him in a hazy high -- but exhausting him at the same time, his body worn and depleted of strength.

Flicking on the television, he figured he'd zone out to some ridiculous late-night programs for a bit, and that lying down itself would help calm him into the lull of sleep. It should prove easier now that his bass player wouldn't be shifting about below him or his drummer breathing heavily above him. He flipped past only a couple channels before he was greeted by the lanky redheaded late night host that was often welcomed into his bedroom at home. Cook loved watching Conan O'Brien and it only took two or three of the comedian's jokes for David to imagine Cook smiling right along, the sound of his laughter ringing in his ear as if he were thise right by him. He groaned inwardly as the thought of him pricked his heart. He fell back against the bed pillows and sighed, not bothering to position himself so he could see the TV. He was already gone, the echoes of laughter only a buzzing backdrop to the vision appearing behind his closing eyelids. The vision of disheveled hair and blue-gray eyes... a gentle smile set with perfect teeth... skin that was rough and unevenly tan and dotted with colors not found in nature... sensitive to touch... his touch... his fingers tracing his arm...

David's eyes scrunched tighter as he rolled over onto his front, groaning into the pillow. He felt like his pants were suddenly two sizes too small and he longed to pick the button apart, pull the zipper in two, slip himself out of them. But he still felt guilty. And dirty. Dirty and desperate and sinful. It was ingrained in him to feel this way, to not give himself over to lustful thoughts, lustful deeds. And he had a boyfriend now. Somehow it seemed disrespectful to Cook, almost like he was cheating. He whimpered softly against the bed, taking every ounce of energy he had left to keep himself from feeling like a sleazy old man.

A pulse rubbed against his thigh, which was quickly accompanied by the sweet strains of the ringtone assigned to the love of his life. Claudia, the only one who knew of David's secret relationship, had teased him and thought it was a little weird that he had chosen one of his own songs for such a job, wondering further how it wasn't totally bizarre to David to hear his own voice announcing his boyfriend's call. Yet when he was at home she would deny her previous opinion and sing along, grinning as he fumbled with the phone remembering that he should have changed it before he was around his family for an extended amount of time. Still, the song was about them, about Cook, and he wasn't about to change it.

_... So here I am staring at the moon tonight... Wondering how you look in this light... Maybe you're somewhere thinking about me too... To be with you, there's nothing I wouldn't do..._

He was caught up in the words again, as sometimes happened. They were too terribly appropriate at this very moment and he almost let the phone ring out before he finally answered it, breathing softly against it as he did.

"Hi, baby. It's not too late is it?"

"It's only midnight," David said softly, fighting back a yawn. "You're fine."

"You sound tired."

"Exhausted."

"You sure you don't want me to go?"

"Please don't."

David let his weight press fully against the bed, pulling his free hand up near his chest. Thinking about Cook idly had been bad enough. Hearing his voice was almost like torture. It was pleasure and pain at the same time, filling his heart with love and affection and peace -- while simultaneously filling the rest of him with desire; a pulsing, throbbing desire that centered fully just below his navel. He rocked his hips into the bed, squinting as he did so.

"How was the show? Have you fallen or tripped or forgotten the words yet?"

David couldn't help but let out a breath of air. "Nope, not yet." He forced an innocent chuckle. "Came close the other day, but I caught myself."

"Hey, this call isn't keeping the whole bus awake, is it? I didn't think of that when I called..."

"No," David said softly, "it's a hotel night."

David could almost hear the gentle smile on Cook's face. "Oh. Lucky for you."

"Yeah," David agreed, his hand slowly sliding down his chest, as if with a mind of its own. "Lucky me."

"Gosh, you sound so tired, baby. I wish I was there. I'd tuck you in tight and kiss your forehead..."

That was it. The lilt in his voice -- the transition to a softer, gentler tone... it was too much. His wandering hand pushed against the waist of his pants, the tips of his fingers tracing the belt line. He pulled the phone away from him as a gentle moan vibrated against his teeth.

"Hey, Cookie? I'm gonna put you on speakerphone, okay?"

"Oh geez, if Demi's in the room, please don't. I want to have a private conversation with you for once, if that's okay."

"They she isn't, just... just hold on."

He pulled the phone from his face and squinted his bleary eyes at its screen, prodding at the button that would amplify that voice onto his whole self. Without hesitation, as soon as he had two free hands, he puhed himself to his side and his hands met at his middle, unbuttoning and unzipping and pushing and pulling and revealing himself. His fingertips almost felt foreign against the delicate skin, and he winced slightly, half at the unfamiliarity and half at the electricity elicited throughout his body.

There was a moment when he wanted to tell Cook what he was doing. Tell his how he'd been thinking about him all day, all evening. How just the memory of him killed him with desire and how he so badly wanted him there just then so he could show him. Ask him to talk him through it, to bring him to that unbelievable high; bring himself through it too, share it with him.

But then something... something kept his mouth from forming the words. Something told him to keep it a secret, to not let Cook know. Something about that seemed amazingly desirable, and as he took himself into his hand, gently smoothing his palm across the sensitive skin, he bit back a groan as he asked how things were going at home.

"Oh, you know, the same as always. Nothing really new, I suppose." Cook paused. "Davey, why did you put me on speakerphone?"

"I just..." David paused to bite his lip as he took a firm grip of himself. "It's easier... I'm lying on the bed and it's easier if I just... set the phone next to me instead of hold it..."

"Oh, I see." Cook almost sounded suspicious, which honestly scared David a bit. There was a beat before Cook spoke again and David let out a sigh of relief when he finally did. He was certain Cook trusted him, but he didn't blame him for the inevitable stray thoughts that might cross his mind; that he was sure did cross his mind. The lifestyle almost called for it, no matter who you were.

"Well, anyway," Cook continued, sighing. David stroked himself firmly, the tone of his voice still enough to do the job. It didn't matter what the words were, he just needed the sound. "I miss you so much, Davey. It almost drives me mad sometimes."

The words, however, could still make a difference. And these ones made David's hand tighten more around himself as he remembered the feel of his lover against his body; so close to him, skin touching. The feel as he slipped into him, the initial tightness and warmth surrounding him. David shuddered and clasped his off hand over his mouth to keep from making a noise.

"I still haven't gotten used to cooking for only one. You'd think that wouldn't be a problem, I often cooked for just me when I lived with Neal... we weren't always home at the same time, you know. But I don't know... I got caught up in the thought of making you dinner... taking care of you... and now suddenly I can't..."

For God's sake, did he have to say the words "taking care of you"? It was almost like he really did know what he was doing to him, what the mere melody of his voice was causing. David's hand slipped across his cock now, gaining a rhythm, applying the right pressure at the right time... pressing perfectly against the base and tickling gently at the tip. He rocked his hips occasionally, meeting the pace he was establishing, his lips trembling already.

"And don't get me started on how lonely I feel at night. When it's quiet and dark and I'm lying in the middle of this sea of bed... it's almost unbearable sometimes. I just long for you next to me, to reach out and touch you... I wish I could do that now..."

David's head fell back and he fought back a whimper. "I want that so badly," he whispered in response. "I would love that right now..." He caught himself as his hip movements became more solid, more forceful. The bed squeaked below him and he gasped. "You're in bed now?"

"Yeah, waiting for Conan to come on. Dublin is curled up at the end of the bed."

"What are you... what are you wearing?"

There was silence for a moment and David's breath caught in his throat. He was going to give himself away -- he'd gotten swept up in the moment.

"Actually," Cook finally answered, "I'm wearing that those silk boxers you bought me on my birthday. It's been so hot here, I needed to wear something cool."

David almost couldn't stand it. His free hand slipped down his chest and across his belly, similar in fashion to how he knew Cook would do it if he were with him. His body tingled at the touch and he nearly lost it right there.

"Baby?..." His voice was so quiet, so breathy; he wasn't sure Cook heard him.

"David... are you okay?"

David swallowed hard, desperately trying to keep control of himself, to hold out as long as possible. "I'm..." He pushed his face closer to where the phone lay near him on the bed, knowing it must be difficult for Cook to hear him. "I need you..." He was breathing heavily now, so deeply that there was no disguising it anymore. "I need you to talk me through..."

"What do you..." Cook trailed and then made a sound of sudden understanding. "Oh. Oh David, why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't want to... I felt so... oh geez... oh my gosh..." A gravely groan escaped his lips and he pleaded with Cook. "Please. _Please_."

A brief second of silence passed before Cook's voice came back across the line, low and sultry. "How are you on the bed?"

"On my side... laying on my side..."

"Good." Cook almost sounded like he was grinning mischievously. "Then you know what I would do? I would push you onto your back... push you back and then climb over you, you know that?"

As if possessed by his words, David let himself fall onto his back, digging his head back into the pillow below him. He was going to come at any second, and he knew it. He just hoped he could hold on just a little longer for Cook. Just a little bit longer.

Cook didn't need acknowledgment to go on, it was like he already knew. "I'd wrap myself around you, sink myself into you... rock against you slowly like I know you like..."

A gentle cry pushed from David's throat as his heart pushed up into it. His free hand slinked across his waist and gripped at his thigh, fingers digging into the still clothing-covered flesh. The mental image being painted for him... the memory of how Cook felt alongside him... within him... it was making him explode inside. Inside and very soon outside. _Very_ soon.

"Oh, Dave... I'm... that's... almost... Oh, almost..." David was shaking and whimpering, that feeling of loss of control beginning to overpower him. He stroked hard against himself, his other hand digging harder into his thigh, his teeth piercing his lip as he chewed mindlessly at it.

"Rock against you slowly," Cook repeated, anticipation rising in his voice. "I'd take you just until you were about to explode..." His voice dropped to a near-growl and he hissed at him like a cougar on the prowl. "... then I'd fuck you hard, David... I'd fuck you so hard it'd hurt... I'd--"

A loud, crying yelp escaped David's lungs as his body tensed up, bucked against the death-grip of his hand, and the evidence of his orgasm spilled over his fingers, across his stomach, soiling his clothes. He continued to stroke himself another minute, only barely able to hear the soft words of his boyfriend still floating around him. He had no idea what Cook was saying anymore, the entire world was muffled. He strained to work out any remaining desire, any leftover tension. But it was gone. It was all gone. The whole world was gone and he was left too weak to do or care anything about it. It was probably several minutes before his heart rate slowed, his breathing quieted. He attempted speech, his voice cracked and exhausted.

"Thank you," he managed to say. "I love you so much. And I miss you unbelievably. Thank you..."

"I wish you'd said something sooner." Cook's voice was even, pleasant. "We could have worked together."

"I... it seemed so... mysterious... or something... you not knowing... not knowing what I was doing."

Cook laughed gently and David could practically see the smile on his face. "I admit... that's pretty hot. Hey, David?"

"Yeah, Snickerdoodle?" He turned to face the phone, just as gently as if he were turning to Cook in person.

"Is it my turn now?"

David swallowed hard and smirked. "Really?"

"Yes, really. I love to help you out and would do it anytime... but let's be fair here."

"You're going to miss Conan," David teased.

"David, please..."

"Well," David breathed, unable to lose the broadening grin across his face. "Why don't you start with telling me what you're wearing again... be very specific."


End file.
